


All You're Giving Me is Friction

by RubenMcguben



Series: StanNed [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Stannis Baratheon Has Feelings, talks of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubenMcguben/pseuds/RubenMcguben
Summary: Takes place in an alternate universe in which Verys sets Ned free after thinking through the problems his death would cause to the realm; Ned lands in Dragonstone, serving Stannis in his mission to take back the Iron Throne from the Lannisters, and well... feelings happen
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon/Ned Stark
Series: StanNed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188083
Kudos: 6





	All You're Giving Me is Friction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RhodeIsland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhodeIsland/gifts).



> This AU is incredibly self indulgent and very silly but I love it so much, I'll probably be writing more for this, because I love Stannis and I love Ned and I just want them to be happy okay?

He heard the sound of his chamber door opening before he ever saw it, so engrossed in his thoughts as he was. Lord Eddard Stark was a man of great consciousness and thought, a man of honor and integrity most of all. That sense of honor and integrity had almost been his undoing, had it not been for the servant girl Verys had sent into the dungeons to aid in his escape. From there he had met up with the man in question at the docks and had been stuffed into a tiny compartment aboard a cargo ship bound for Dragonstone. At the time he wasn’t sure what the man’s motives were, if he even had any at all, but he was thankful for the help all the same, even if it had come at a costly price. The full use of his leg and the happiness of his daughters, who had to be left behind in King’s Landing. 

Robb’s armies were headed south for King’s Landing, intent on gaining land on the Lannisters, making it a more sound triumph over them all as King Stannis Baratheon would storm the mainland through the Blackwater and reclaim his rightful place on the throne. It was a sound tactic, if a little flawed for the obviousness, and if he knew of any trait pertaining to the Lannister bunch, it was cunning. They would be waiting for them to arrive with the limited men they have. Planning how to storm the mainland efficiently without giving away their positioning was going to be tricky and difficult to pull off. With his leg out of commission, his children scattered to the wind and everyone tense from the recent crowning of the Lannister bastard, needless to say this wasn’t going to be easy. His eyes started to cross from staring at the little wooden figures representing their troops. 

The sound jolted him from his stupor, he struggled to turn around in his seat when he heard a familiar voice begin, “Lord Stark.” It was his grace, Stannis Baratheon. Ned struggled to sit up from his chair, eager to right his disrespect, wincing from the effort of trying to stand. “Your Grace, I apologize, I was not expecting company so late,” He chuckled. It took some strength out of his arms as he righted himself and made a reach for his walking cane. The flesh of his injured leg throbbing from the use his body required, being stuck in the same position for months at sea had done nothing to soothe the ache from his wounds. 

“There is no need, formalities are an extravagance you cannot afford,” He said disinterestedly, gaze lingering from the walls to the table, finally landing on Ned’s form. “A man that I receive advisement from should be sound of mind and of body, which at the present moment you are not.” He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, “Sit.” 

Gingerly he sat back in his chair, a breath of relief leaving him as the pressure was taken off his injured leg. It creaked from his weight, and he stared at his king as the man came closer to the table, taking up the seat of the opposite chair. His brow was creased in thought and the severe bags under his eyes from lack of sleep seemed more pronounced than usual, if they could pull this off, they would be that much closer to victory. “The night is long, which begs the question of why you’re still awake.” His hands cover his mouth, and Ned finds himself noticing just how different Stannis was from the rest of his brothers.

Renly was the youngest, therefore Ned didn’t know him as well as he should have, but the boy was nice if not a bit odd. He was gangly and lent himself to more social matters than of war. Robert and Stannis on the other hand had natural tendencies for it, built for it even, at one time or another. He pledged his life and loyalty to Robert, he meant it every step of the way, loved the man as more than just a friend and a brother. He would have followed him to his deathbed and beyond had the Gods allowed for it. But Robert was old and fat and lacked a sense of discretion or taste. Stannis did and was healthy and fit; a good, honorable man that he would also pledge his life to, if given the chance. 

He supposed going to war and risking his life would be pledge enough, but it wasn’t formal and it wasn’t befitting of a right hand to the king. When he would get the chance, he would formally swear his life and house to his cause. “I find I cannot sleep when there are wars to fight and family to worry over, your Grace.” He ducked his head respectfully, managing to suppress the yawn that bubbled up in his throat. “Perhaps when the fighting is done I will find solitude in the fact that all the bloodshed is for naught.” He clenched his fingers tightly together, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. 

Gods he was worried about his family, worried about the life they would have once this war was finally over and the rightful heir was once again upon the throne. Cat, Robb and Theon were waging war against the Lannisters, trying to gain the upper hand, constantly in peril of losing everything, Sansa, his darling Sansa was in the clutches of the Lion’s den, Arya fled King’s Landing and was nowhere to be found, Jon was on The Wall, and while all things considered it was the best place for him to be, there was still the thought that his nephew,  _ Son  _ truly, would never come back home. Brandon and Rickon were still safely inside the barriers of Winterfell, but for how much longer? 

He lost his mother to an illness before, his father and brothers in the rebellion after, his sister to a lover and just when it seems that destiny has deemed him worthy enough of a happy and uneventful life, this happens. Before he thought that he had enough spirit in him to last him the rest of his days, and now he was beginning to think he was getting a bit too old for this nonsense. 

“During the Rebellion,” Stannis started, ripping Ned out of his revelry, his eyes downcast on the table in front of them, eyes far away and seemingly looking through the wood and the very foundation of Dragonstone, “me and Renly stayed together in Storm’s End.” The muscles in His’ Graces throat contracted, jaw becoming hard set. “We were to hold Storm’s End as long as the war was waging and we were starving, left behind when Robert took his forces North.” Stannis picked up one of the little lion figures on the table, turning it around in his fingers. Perhaps, Ned thought, instead of a lion he was seeing a dragon once again. “Renly couldn’t go, I don’t fault the lad, he was six at the time, but when everything was said and done…” His eyes became hard and he clutched the lion tighter, “Robert became King, took King’s Landing for himself and gave Renly Storm's End.” The lion clattered to the stone floor with a hollow thunk, forgotten and abandoned. 

“I was left with Dragonstone.” Stannis sneered, “The shittiest end of the arrangement, a heaping pile of  _ filthy  _ rock, with no farmland or access to good trading ports. Our youngest brother, the little boy that could hardly swing a sword at the time, got the better lands than I, got the better name than I, got the better favor with the King than I, and for what?” Ned didn’t say anything. Robert had been and will always be his dearest friend, but hearing this, hearing the blatant disdain Stannis had for Dragonstone and how he had been  _ cheated  _ out of land and honor he deserved? Well it was suffice to say that it was making Ned look at his best friend in a different sort of light. “That being said, they were family, decent leaders, decent people.” He looked back towards the door and Ned couldn’t help but stare at the haunted look in the other man’s eyes, “I didn’t mean for anything to happen to the lad.” 

There was a pregnant pause before His Grace spoke once again, “When we caught word that you were traveling to Dragonstone, my daughter became excited,” With a tilt of his head Stannis locked eyes with him, “she thought you were going to bring your daughters with you.” Ned wasn’t good at reading men as reserved as King Stannis, but he could clearly see the tension in his jaw release and his eyes softened around the edges at the mention of the Princess. Eddard could agree, young Shireen was a pleasure to be around, bright and caring, she often reminded him of when Sansa was a girl. He chuckled and said, “I’m sure the Princess would have loved to meet Sansa if given the chance, doesn’t she read those old faerie tale books? Gods what was the one…” He tried to remember the title, but the name was slipping from his grasp. 

His King huffed, nodding slightly, a small quirk to his lips, “The one about the dragon and the Princess? With the knight coming to her rescue? Aye, she’s read it many times over.” Stannis stood with all the grace and power befitting a future King, bowed his head to Ned before saying, “May your night be peaceful, we wake at dawn to train the men.” before turning on his heel and making his way to the door. Ned paused, unknowing what to say before finally settling on, “Sleep well Your Grace, may your night also be peaceful.” Before his King closed the door, he glanced over his shoulder to look Ned up and down, before curtly closing the wooden door. 

Ned listened to the footsteps echoing down the hall, his heart somewhat speeding up in his chest and his cheeks starting to burn. 


End file.
